


Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

by emigmatic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Fluff and Angst, Iwaizumi Hajime is Bad at Feelings, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Angst, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Fluff, Lots of Angst, M/M, Mention of Blood but it's because Oikawa scrapes his knee, Minor Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Oikawa Tooru is Slightly Better at Feelings, POV Iwaizumi Hajime, Tags Are Hard, some fluff sprinkled in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24683758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emigmatic/pseuds/emigmatic
Summary: A cicada screeched and Iwaizumi blinked. He’d been staring blankly at the ground for a while now, lost in a numbing sea of thoughts.Clearing his throat, he began to unfold the quilt and spread it over the grass. “Sorry, I’m a little late,” he murmured. “My professor went longer than usual.”There was no response.Or, the one in which Iwaizumi takes a trip down memory lane and doesn't like the final destination.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first iwaoi piece I ever wrote, the one that started it all. It's also the shortest by a good 4.7k words LOL  
> Again, this was slightly adapted to fit the ao3 format. The original post can be found on my tumblr @emigmatic
> 
> Enjoy, but don't say I didn't warn you in the tags :)

The cerulean skies were dotted with clouds. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, rustling them to life. It was summer, and Iwaizumi Hajime hated it.

Cicadas screamed from their trees as he walked along the path. He was envious of the way they could cry so freely, and every sound they made seemed to be a taunt directed at him.

Grass rustled beneath his feet as he veered off the gravel path, and the hot summer sun bore down on him. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple and he wiped it away absentmindedly. Even his own skin could cry as much as it wanted.

Iwaizumi ran a hand through his hair. Visits always gave him the jitters, but if he was being honest, he didn’t mind. If anything, he liked it; it made him feel less lonely.

He tucked the quilt under his arm as he drew closer, holding onto it for dear life. How could he not, when it carried so many precious memories within its frayed and worn squares?

His feet carried him to where he needed to go without his command. It was all muscle memory at this point. Iwaizumi could do it in his sleep. Actually, he _did_ do it in his sleep once, and his mother had spent the next day watching him with concern. She made sure to lock all the doors at night after that.

A cicada screeched and Iwaizumi blinked. He’d been staring blankly at the ground for a while now, lost in a numbing sea of thoughts.

Clearing his throat, he began to unfold the quilt and spread it over the grass. “Sorry, I’m a little late,” he murmured. “My professor went longer than usual.”

There was no response.

He continued, unperturbed. “Exams are coming up. I’m not too worried about my STEM courses, but I think my history professor is out to get me. He told us we would have to do a bluebook essay on the history of World War II and Japan’s involvement.” Iwaizumi paused and chuckled humorlessly, “You and I both know I can’t write essays to save my life, even if I have all the information I need.”

Again, he received no answer.

And again, he continued. “Matsukawa offered to switch with me and take my exam while I take his chemistry exam. It was tempting, really, but I think his professor would be suspicious if he aced the final after failing half the semester. Ah,” he rubbed his nose and watched a couple walk by, “but that’s enough about school. Listening to me complain is probably boring.”

Silence, broken only by a cicada’s cry.

Another drop of sweat trickled down his forehead. Iwaizumi wiped it with the pads of his fingers and leaned back, his eyes drifting up to the cloudy sky. He squinted and focused in on one particular cloud that was shaped like an oval, with gaps that could easily be mistaken for eyes. “Hey, that kind of looks like an alien…”

The ‘alien’ cloud drifted closer and closer until it was floating above Iwaizumi. If the sun had been higher, it would have cast its alien shadow right where he sat. He wished it had.

He had recently found himself drawn to out-of-this-world things. Of course, he knew who was to blame for this and generally denied the urges, but sometimes he caved and sought them out. Like now, for instance, when a voice in his head told him to chase the alien cloud’s shadow and see where it led. Maybe it would lead him back home, or maybe it would take him down a road he never wanted to traverse again.

The cicada screamed again, and Iwaizumi made himself more comfortable on the quilt. Home wasn’t something he could reach chasing clouds; it was something he would never reach again. Not until he could run among the stars.

He clenched the worn fabric beneath his hands and cleared his throat. “Alright, here’s the weekly update on my oh-so-exciting life!”

Iwaizumi rambled about everything that had happened, from accidentally walking in on Matsukawa and Hanamaki after a movie night—he forgot his keys in their apartment and very much wanted to bleach his eyes afterwards—to watering his mom’s precious bean plants while she was away on business. He talked until his throat grew scratchy and the sun was bowing down to kiss the horizon.

When he finished, he sat forward and picked at the grass. There was one more thing he wanted to say, though he never would because that made everything _real_ , and he didn’t want that. But it was impossible not to think it.

_I wish you were here._

Instead, he swallowed forcefully and leaned back once more, the heat from the stone soaking through his clothes. The sun was getting lower now, its bottom disappearing behind the horizon. Darkness swelled from the east, soon to reveal and expanse of stars that were breathtakingly beautiful and unending.

_I wish you were here._

Iwaizumi closed his eyes and tilted his head back, finally finding a comfortable position. The cicadas had ceased their screaming, and the silence allowed his mind to wander.

* * *

“Ew, Iwa-chan! That’s gross!”

Iwaizumi balanced the beetle on the back of his hand, his eyes sparkling with fascination as he watched the beetle. “Shut up, Trashkawa! Look at how big it is!”

“Big and mean, like Iwa-chan!” Oikawa pouted, his brow furrowing and his arms crossing over his chest.

Iwaizumi poked the beetle with his finger and it flew away, startling Oikawa, who let out a shriek when it flew past him. He laughed in earnest, “Geez, it won’t hurt you!”

Oikawa flushed. “Did you see the horns on that thing? How could it not hurt me!”

Iwaizumi just sighed and shook his head. “I don’t get it. How do bugs make you squeamish, but crazy aliens and weird space stuff get you all excited?”

“That’s because aliens are cool! Bugs are gross; they have too many legs and they look scary.” Oikawa stuck his tongue out in disgust. “Oh, I almost forgot! Mom says you can stay over tonight so we can stargaze—as long as you don’t bring any bugs!”

“She didn’t say that, Trashkawa. She likes the bugs, unlike you!” Iwaizumi huffed and picked up his net, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he looked towards the tree line. “But fine, I won’t bring any bugs over. I will go catch more though!”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa ran after his best friend and the two crashed into the woods. He was faster—albeit clumsier—and caught up quickly, but never took the lead because he tripped every other step. They dodged around trees, crashed through the underbrush, and jumped over rocks, whooping loud enough to chase away most of the wildlife.

Finally, panting and out of breath, they sat down on a fallen tree covered in emerald green moss. Iwaizumi tried to fan himself with his net but only ended up smacking himself in the face with it, which made Oikawa snicker. He shot him an embarrassed glare before bopping Oikawa on the head with the net.

Oikawa let out a faux cry of horror and jumped to his feet, picking up a stick as he went. “Iwa-chan is so mean, hitting me with stuff all the time!”

“Oh, quit it.” Iwaizumi swatted at him with the net again but was blocked.

Oikawa grinned, his devilishly playful grin, as he pushed away the net with his stick. “Let’s have a duel!”

Iwaizumi raised his brow. “A sword fight?”

“Yeah, and if I win, you won’t bring any bugs to my house!” Oikawa flourished the stick like it was a sabre, its tip in Iwaizumi’s face.

“I wasn’t going to anyways, idiot,” Iwaizumi mumbled and swatted Oikawa’s stick away, but got to his feet anyways. “Okay, and if I win, you have to help me carry back all the bugs we find!”

Oikawa wrinkled his nose. He hated bugs, but he hated having bugs in his house more. “Deal!”

They brandished their ‘swords’ and began circling one another. Iwaizumi made the first move, lashing out with a quick strike that would have landed if Oikawa hadn’t nimbly danced away. He swung again, and Oikawa dodged once more, a smirk on his face. “Quit moving and fight me, Trashkawa!”

They swung at one another, blocking and dodging and dashing all around. Occasionally they would land a blow and whoop in triumph. Iwaizumi kept forgetting to protect his legs, and after the fifth time Oikawa smacked his left knee, he was ready to get revenge.

He lunged forward and Oikawa squeaked, barely managing to jump out of the way. They balanced on the fallen tree, swiping at one another. Iwaizumi was more aggressive—his left knee smarted where Oikawa had whacked him and fueled his fury—and was forcing Oikawa back, inch by hard fought inch.

The air rang with the cracks of wood on wood, and the two were completely lost in their game. Oikawa fancied himself to be a brave knight, fighting off the evil bug lord to protect his family. (He wasn’t too far off.) His arms were starting to burn and he could _feel_ the bruises forming where Iwa-chan had hit him. But he couldn’t give up, because defeat wasn’t in his blood. (And he was terrified of bugs.)

Iwaizumi felt the same. His relatively small beetle collection was on the line; if he had Oikawa’s help, he could easily double the number he kept. He had to win! He swung out with all his might, hoping to smack Oikawa’s stick away and finish it.

Oikawa danced out of reach just in time, a triumphant laugh leaving his lips. He took a few more steps back and readied himself for a lunge. “You’ll never defeat me, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi saw the log snap before he heard it. “Oikawa!”

Unbeknownst to them, the log they were playing on dangled over a drop-off, and the rotting wood couldn’t support the weight of a ten-year-old boy.

Oikawa disappeared with a yelp and Iwaizumi nearly fell with him, trying to grasp his hand.

He missed.

He heard a thud and a groan and scrambled to the edge of the drop-off. Oikawa was sprawled on the ground, several feet below. “Don’t move, I’ll be right there!”

Iwaizumi skidded down the precipice and leaned over his friend. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Oikawa sat up and rubbed the back of his head. His hands and knees were covered in scratches, although most of them were from tripping earlier. Blood trickled down a nasty gash on his right shin. “Ouch.”

“Ah,” Iwaizumi winced at the sight of the cut and frantically patted his pockets, searching for a tissue. He found one and hurriedly pressed it to the cut.

“That hurts,” Oikawa hissed and whined, “Iwa-chaaaan!”

“Sorry,” he pulled back and tried to wipe away the blood around the gash, but only ended up smearing more of it around. Worried, and a bit grossed out, he got to his feet. “We should probably go home so your mom can fix this.”

“Help me up, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa extended his hand and Iwaizumi pulled him to his feet. He tried to take a step and nearly fell over, steadying himself on a tree. “I don’t know if I can walk…”

Iwaizumi sighed at the expectant look Oikawa gave him. His lips were turned down in a pout, but he couldn’t hide the mischievous gleam in his eyes. It was his signature puppy dog face that won him plenty of snacks from the local grannies. Iwaizumi tried to sound annoyed, but the worry still tinged his voice as he offered his back to Oikawa. “Just get on my back; I’ll carry you home.”

“Iwa-chan is so nice sometimes!” Oikawa climbed on with apparent ease, despite barely being able to stand a few seconds ago.

“I only do this because you’re a clumsy moron who gets hurt all the time,” Iwaizumi huffed. “Here, take my net so I don’t drop you, Trashkawa.”

“So mean!” Oikawa took the net with a whine but hummed happily as Iwaizumi set off towards the house. “Iwa-chan is such a tsundere.”

“I am not!” Iwaizumi barked.

“Iwa-chan takes good care of me, too.”

His face burned. “Shut up.”

Oikawa grinned.

“Quit grinning or else I’ll drop you, Trashkawa.”

Oikawa kept grinning, and Iwaizumi kept carrying him home. (He let Oikawa win that round, but only to get him to quit whining. Even then, it did nothing to wipe the cocky smirk off his face. A well tossed beetle fixed that.)

* * *

Iwaizumi’s phone rang, a ridiculous sound from some alien TV show. He didn’t need to hear the special ringtone to know who it was. His hand smacked around the nightstand before he found his phone and answered. “Oikawa?”

“Hi, Iwa-chan.”

He glanced at the clock. “Oikawa, it’s the middle of the n—”

“I can’t sleep.”

Iwaizumi bit back a sigh and sat up. “Do you want to talk or…?”

“Can you sneak out?” Oikawa’s voice sounded strangled, like he couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t surprising, considering the way the game had gone. If anything, Iwaizumi was a bit miffed he could talk at all.

“Yeah, give me a minute.”

“Don’t hang up.”

His finger hovered over the red button. He frowned, but complied. “Okay.”

Oikawa was silent while Iwaizumi pulled on a pair of pants and a light jacket; the only indication that he was still there was his uneven breathing and the rustle of sheets.

Minutes later, Iwaizumi was standing in front of Oikawa’s house, his phone pressed to his ear. “Aren’t you coming out?”

“I don’t really want to…”

“Then why am I out here, idiot?” Iwaizumi hissed into the phone.

“I don’t want you to see me like this, Iwa-chan.”

“That doesn’t—”

“But I wanted to see you.” Oikawa’s voice was soft, but it wasn’t his usual suave and attention-seeking soft. It was the vulnerable and honest soft, one that he reserved for Iwaizumi, and it made his heart stutter.

He sighed lightly, running a hand through his close cut hair, and risked a glance up at Oikawa’s window to see the curtains flutter closed. “Can I come up? I won’t look. It’s not like I want to see your crying face anyways, Trashkawa.”

“Iwa-chan is so mean…” Oikawa sniffles.

“Oikawa…” Iwaizumi muttered, too firm to be a plea but too gentle to be an admonition. There was a click over the phone and he pulled it away, thinking Oikawa had hung up, but the call was still connected. He looked up and saw Oikawa’s pale hands cracking open the window, just enough for him to squeeze through.

“Fine, Iwa-chan,” his voice floated down from the window and sounded garbled through the phone, “you win this time.”

Then Oikawa did hang up, and he watched as Iwaizumi slipped through the gate to stand below the window. He jumped and caught hold of the windowsill with his fingertips, pulling himself up with a grunt and a little help from Oikawa. They no longer used the small heap of rocks Oikawa had tucked under a bush; their height and combined strength was enough.

True to his word, Iwaizumi averted his eyes from Oikawa’s face, staring at the floor as he crawled inside. A beam of moonlight illuminated a square of carpet, and the faint glow of star stickers from the ceiling tinged the room in a pale green. As he made himself comfy on the floor, he wondered how long those stickers would stay; they had been there as far back as he could remember. Maybe Oikawa replaced them when they fell to the floor.

As if on cue, one dropped from the ceiling and landed in his lap, it’s glow nearly faded.

If Oikawa noticed, he didn’t say.

Iwaizumi carefully placed the fallen star on Oikawa’s desk and made a mental note to fix it. Oikawa, a star in his own right, needed some fixing too, and he fixed his gaze on his friend’s feet. “I’m here. Now what?”

The sheets rustled as Oikawa shrugged and extended his arm, his slender fingers brushing the carpet a couple feet in front of Iwaizumi.

It was blatantly obvious what he wanted, but the silent request made Iwaizumi hesitant. Physical touch was nothing new to them; they’d wrestled and played together all their lives. He was probably more familiar with Oikawa’s body than he was his own, if he was being honest. But intimate touching—cuddling, holding hands, hugging—wasn’t something they did very often. It stirred up too many conflicting emotions, and the thought _we’re just friends_ played on repeat in the back of their minds. It was the only way they could rein in their more-than-friendly desires.

Iwaizumi decided to make this time an exception and scooted close enough to lean his back against the bed, his fingers slowly intertwining with Oikawa’s. His hands were surprisingly cold; usually they left trails of fire where they brushed against Iwaizumi’s skin.

Oikawa hummed and gently squeezed his hand, his body curling in towards the touch. Iwaizumi’s palm was rough with callouses from years of volleyball and Oikawa liked to feel the texture on his skin; it was what kept him grounded some days.

Iwaizumi, emboldened by the darkened room, swept his thumb over the back of Oikawa’s hand. When he released a shuddering sigh, he did it again, and the sheets rustled as Oikawa once again shifted closer. He could feel his body heat against his back now, and it felt like some of the heat was spreading to him because Iwaizumi’s cheeks were _definitely_ on fire. “Oikawa?”

“Yes, Iwa-chan?” His voice was muffled by the pillow.

“It’s okay, you know.” Oikawa’s hand stiffened in his grip. “You don’t have to blame yourself.”

“Iwa-ch—”

“I know you’re blaming yourself, so don’t even deny it. It wasn’t your fault we lost to Karasuno,” Iwaizumi spoke firmly, and more gently added, “They just had the stronger six.”

“Iwa—”

“If you mope around and put yourself down, I’ll hit you. I’ll really, honest to God, hi—”

_“Hajime.”_

The threats died in his throat. Iwaizumi’s stomach flip-flopped and his fingers tightened around Oikawa’s wrist. He gulped. “What?”

“Please just be quiet.”

Had it been any other time, Iwaizumi would’ve snapped and gone off. But the tone of Oikawa’s voice was too strained, so he shut his mouth and went back to rubbing circles on the smooth skin of his best friend’s hand. His _best friend’s_ hand. His _best friend’s_ hand that was really beautiful and soft like silk and fit against his perfectly.

Oikawa melted into the touch and got close enough for his knees to bump Iwaizumi’s shoulder. The guilt and frustration of losing to _Tobio-chan_ of all people was eating him alive, but the constant and steadying brush of Iwaizumi’s thumb was slowly driving his pain away. His touch almost always did.

The silence was comfortable. Iwaizumi didn’t try to make Oikawa talk it out, and Oikawa didn’t so much as sniffle while tears dripped onto his pillow. They simply sat and took comfort in each other’s presence, just as they had for years.

After a period of silence, Oikawa shifted his hand and Iwaizumi loosened his grip, expecting him to let go, but Oikawa wound their fingers together more tightly. He dragged his hand along as he slung his arm over Iwaizumi’s head and onto his shoulder, halfway hugging him from behind.

Iwaizumi’s breath audibly hitched but he said nothing. So much for no intimate touching.

Oikawa exhaled deeply, and his breath made the hairs on the back of Iwaizumi’s neck stand on end. He could feel the pulse in his neck beating like mad against his arm, and try as he might, Oikawa couldn’t repress a smile, because his heart was beating just as fast. He exhaled again, enjoying the slight tremor that rippled through Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

Iwaizumi was having a panic attack inside his head. All the alarms were going off, and the fire in his cheeks was spreading rapidly. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take without turning around to kiss his _best friend_ senseless. A part of him, the rational part, told him it would be a very bad idea, because Oikawa was grieving their loss to Karasuno and wasn’t in his right mind. The emotional part said Oikawa knew exactly what he was doing to him. He desperately wanted to believe the latter.

When Oikawa felt Iwaizumi’s pulse start to relax—as in it slowed a measly two beats per minute—he snaked his free arm around his _best friend’s_ waist. His pulse picked up immediately and he opened his mouth to say something, but Oikawa hushed him and moved closer. Being physically clingy with Iwaizumi was clearing the negativity from his mind, but it made it nearly impossible to swallow his feelings.

_I love you._

Iwaizumi’s neck tingled with every breath and Oikawa’s soft hair was dangerously tickling his skin. Everything faded into nothingness, until it was just the two of them. He wanted to say it so badly.

_I love you._

Oikawa nuzzled closer, his head now completely resting on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, their cheeks brushing gently.

_I love you._

Iwaizumi leaned into the touch as if it was the most natural thing in the world for _best friends_ to cuddle so intimately in the middle of the night.

_I love you._

“I love you.”

* * *

Iwaizumi opened his eyes. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and the night sky shone with millions of twinkling stars. It looked just like the ceiling in Oikawa’s room.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his stinging eyes. The stone was cool against his back and drew the heat from his body. He didn’t bother checking his watch; he knew it was late and that his mother was probably anxiously awaiting his return.

Iwaizumi closed his eyes, seeking to immerse himself in the memory once more. He imagined the weight of Oikawa’s arm on his shoulder. The brush of his lips over the nape of his neck. The hot breath that summoned goosebumps all along his body and sent a shiver down his spine. The rustle of fabric. The low rumble of Oikawa’s voice. The press of soft lips to his cheeks, and slender fingers sliding up his chest. The air leaving his lungs when they slotted their lips together in a sloppy but heartfelt kiss.

He could feel the drip of tears on his hands. Tears that his mind insisted belonged to Oikawa, and that the memory was real and happening _right now_. That the hellish reality he faced wasn’t a reality at all, but a nightmare. That when he opened his eyes, he’d be lying in bed with brown hair tickling his nose and an excited “Iwa-chan!” ringing in his ears as hands pulled him close for a kiss.

Iwaizumi opened his eyes. He was not greeted with anything but the biting cold of the night and the hard press of stone against his back.

He stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his clothes. He shook the quilt and folded it up into a bundle that fit under his arm. It was the same quilt he had shared with his _best friend_ on the night that changed everything between them. It was all he had left, and he clung to it desperately.

Iwaizumi’s fingers traced the edge of the stone, and he crouched down to run his fingers over the engraved name of Oikawa Tooru. He pressed his lips to the star etched above the name, a poor substitute for the kiss of a true star, _his_ star. His _best friend._ His home.

With a grunt he straightened. He cast one last lingering glance to the endless night sky above him, knowing that Oikawa was sparkling amongst them.

“I love you.”

A star twinkled brightly, as though it heard him and was returning the sentiment.

Iwaizumi Hajime turned on his heel, dry sobs racking his shoulders, and walked out of the cemetery.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to tell you in the tags. I really did.


End file.
